Russian Roulette
by complacentCatalyst
Summary: Nick, Ellis, and Rochelle make it out of New Orleans and are headed to a new, safe place... too bad that their arrival causes an unprecedented event that makes them fight for their lives along with the help of some old friends.
1. Chapter 1

**Russian Roulette**

_It's not the same without a gun._

Chapter 1

It had only been a few hours since the helicopter had arrived and rescued the group from run-down, virus-infested New Orleans. Well, most of the group. Much to everyone's dismay, Coach hadn't made it. The horde on the bridge had overwhelmed him, and a tank had done the job of slinging him over the edge after he was not much more than a bloody mass. Needless to say, all of them – Nick, Ellis, and Rochelle – were a little disturbed by this. After all, they had been _so close_. Why couldn't cruel fate have spared them the slightest chance? Coach hadn't even been that far from the end of the bridge.

Though it made them feel somewhat guilty, they couldn't help but get excited about their evacuation, even if poor Coach couldn't be involved. Nick wanted to find out of Vegas had been hit with the Infection (and he hoped it hadn't). Ellis was, of course, worried about his buddies. Rochelle just wanted everything back to normal – she'd rather go back to telling millions of viewers about a homicide than actually take part in one.

Unfortunately, none of them knew where this new, supposedly-safe place was that they were headed to. They didn't know if it would even be safe; after all, Nick had taken the time in a few safe-rooms to point out writing on the walls people had left. There had apparently been a lot of debate about Carriers, and all three of them were definitely Carriers. The writings had contained messages like _"KILL ALL CARRIERS,"_ and lots of people had agreed. No doubt there would be survivors and possibly even soldiers that would be willing to take them out before they even got out of the helicopter. Or maybe they'd do as Nick had warned a while back: "Line us against a wall and shoot us."

Ellis in particular had been thinking about that line, and now he was starting to get a little restless. It was dark outside, and they'd been in the helicopter longer than expected. All of them were awake – more like unable to sleep because of their anxiety. Turning to look at the conman, Ellis asked, "D'you really think they'll kill us?"

Nick shrugged, staring down at the ruins of a destroyed town below. "I wouldn't doubt it," he replied, "but hopefully they'll find a way to work around it. Maybe they've got some different place for us." He didn't really believe it, though. Everyone knew Carriers would be a danger to normal people. A secluded area just for Carriers would most likely not do much good, especially since it was unknown if the virus spread through air or not.

Ellis nodded, the solemnity in his eyes something that was uncharacteristic for his usually bubbly self. Even he understood when something was bad. Sure, the apocalypse had been bad, but at least he had been able to turn it into a real-life zombie hunting game. Getting executed wasn't something you could play with.

Not long after, Ellis and Rochelle were sound asleep in their seats, fatigue having finally taken over them. Nick stayed wide awake: His growling, empty stomach and preoccupied mind wouldn't allow him to surrender to exhaustion. If they _were_ to be shot like he expected, then he'd have to think of a quick escape. Maybe he'd be able to blend in with a crowd of normal evacs and sneak away… but then that would leave the possibility of the Infection breaking out around him, if indeed Carriers were capable of that. And not to mention he didn't even know where he'd be able to go from there.

One last thing made him think the most. He wouldn't be able to leave Ellis and Rochelle behind just to save his own ass. That wouldn't feel right, not after all they'd been through. Sure, he was more of a loner, but he had come to realize that he would not have survived this without their assistance. He wouldn't leave them behind to get shot by some idiot wearing camouflage that most likely hadn't seen a real infected person his entire career because his job consisted only of shooting innocent people that couldn't help being what they were. For once, Nick was going to help someone that wasn't himself.

* * *

Sorry it's kind of short, guys. I promise I'll do my best to make the chapters longer in the future. Give me some reviews and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Russian Roulette**

Playing it with good friends is as exciting as it gets.

Chapter 2

Since shaking his shoulder rather violently hadn't woken him up, Rochelle had resorted to just slapping Nick repeatedly in the face. Eventually he seemed to notice that this was his call to reality, and he willed his eyes to open slowly and blink a few times to adjust to the early-morning light. The first thing he said was a grumpy inquiry of, "What is it?"

"We've landed." Rochelle replied. Sure enough, the helicopter was already seated on the paved ground. "All that noise and you _still_ wouldn't wake up. I thought you were dead for a minute." She smiled as if trying to tell him this was a joke, though the look in her eyes said that she had actually been serious.

Nick yawned widely. His body didn't want to start moving yet, and his mind didn't want to function correctly. He had to force himself to appear uncaring for the sake of the group – that was it, always for the sake of the group; he had to appear strong and nonchalant. "What are their plans?" he asked. It could be roughly translated to something like "Are they going to kill us yet?" He looked outside. There were green camouflage suits everywhere, running around with guns or marching in groups, some of them yelling orders to the others. They acted as if they knew what they were doing, as if it was right. They hadn't even checked twice to see who had been left behind before they'd started bombing Louisiana. He, Rochelle, and Ellis had been extremely lucky they'd even made it to the helicopter in time.

"They don't seem to like us too much," Ellis pointed out, something of a confused look on his face. Sure enough, many of the soldiers were staring at the new arrivals with looks of distaste, or as if they were aliens.

"We're Carriers, Ellis. Of course they don't like us. They think we're a threat just by being around them." Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around at all the people in an annoyed way. "I guess we can't blame them. We don't know if we really will cause another breakout. God forbid we actually be _safe_ for once."

One of the soldiers walked over to them, hands behind his back and standing tall in a strictly-business manner.

"Hope you had a nice flight." he said, glancing at the helicopter for a moment as the two other soldiers got out of the front seats. "Must have been hell out there. Got some rest, did you?"

Ellis nodded. "Ain't gotten any sleep that good since," he confirmed. "Though my neck's a lil stiff from havin' to sit in such a position."

The soldier gave a short laugh, then looked the three of them over. "Unfortunately, we can't have you near us uninfected folk." He looked solemn, as if he actually cared about them, though they had a pretty good idea that he really didn't. "We've got a designated area for Carriers down the way-" he pointed toward some far-off distance- "and you'll be escorted there immediately. Our best scientists have been trying to come up with some sort of cure to this mess, so hopefully you won't have to be secluded for long."

"Bullshit," Nick spat after the man had walked away. Rochelle and Ellis stared at him, Rochelle with her usual understanding look and Ellis, as always, a curious one.

Soon there was another army-man coming their way, but this one looked more sincere. No doubt he understood what they'd been through, maybe even been through the same thing himself. "Hey there." he greeted, a warm smile on his face and a bright look in his eye. "Don't mind those guys; they're asses no matter what they tell you."

"Agreed." Nick mumbled. Rochelle nodded.

"Well, if you'll follow me." The middle-aged man turned on his heel and started walking in the very direction the previous soldier had pointed, and the three followed him. It was a good walk, maybe about half an hour. Half an hour of idle chat, though the man seemed interested – something that could not be said about the other men they had walked away from.

They reached a group of garrisons - two lines of the barracks facing each other with three on each side - that was teeming with people, no doubt all Carriers. As they approached it, the man sighed. "It's more of a ghetto for people like us," he explained. "Close quarters, almost no privacy whatsoever."

Rochelle looked the most aggravated by this. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"My apologies," he said, turning to face her. "You might as well get rid of any insecurities you have, ma'am. But don't worry too much; people tend to keep to themselves. Someone will jump to your defense if anything happens."

"That's just wrong." she said under her breath, shaking her head. "This is all so wrong. Are you trying to tell me we don't even have our own rooms? What about showering?"

"Jesus, no. Thankfully they were compassionate enough to give us enough showers. There's a bit of a line, though." The man laughed sheepishly. "If you can even call them compassionate at all." Abruptly, his expression went serious and he said, "This is most likely the best place you can find in the area. There's not a lot of protection, but we've got the bare necessities."

Nick looked own at his white suit that had a considerable amount of blood, dirt, and whatever other kinds of stains on it. Ellis and Rochelle copied the motion and took note that they had the same issue. "What about clothes?" Nick asked. The man shook his head. "Nothing better than what you've already got," he answered. "We've got a few washing machines, but all the spare clothes are ripped and stained. Some of us are kind enough to share what we've got, if you're that desperate."

He led them to the barrack at the end of the right row and stood outside the open door. "There are some empty beds in here. You better thank God for giving you this, 'cause he certainly isn't giving much else." With that, he left them.

Inside the half-cylinder building were rows upon rows of beds with all sorts of beaten-up dressers next to them. Some had the luxury of a coffee table and a broken lamp that still managed to function. They made their way to the back where there was almost half a row of empty beds, and decided they'd all sleep near each other. They'd come to trust each other this much, and none of them wanted to fend for themselves in a place like this. Nick was about to claim the bed in the middle that had one of the lamps beside it, but that was until Rochelle tapped him on the shoulder and declared, "I'm a lady, therefore I should get first dibs." He rolled his eyes, but did not argue. He took the bed that was to the right, and Ellis the one on the left.

They had just finished setting down what little belongings they had next to their beds (guns, knives, med kits and defibrillators) when Ellis gasped.

"I don't believe it!" he said excitedly, barely able to contain himself. "'e's _here!_ Of all places!"

"Who's here?" Rochelle and Nick asked in unison, exchanging a quick glance at each other before focusing their attention on Ellis again. Said Southerner was beaming like a child on Christmas morning.

"Keith!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Russian Roulette**

_The chamber was empty… this time._

Chapter 3

No one had really believed Keith was real. After all, the crazy stories about him just seemed impossible. A man that stupid (he was decided to be stupid, since every story portrayed him as such) either could not exist, or should already be dead.

"Where?" Rochelle asked.

"Are you sure it's even him?" Nick cut in, not at all believing that Keith was really there.

"I's him, alright!" Ellis confirmed. "C'mon, let's go an' see 'im!" He grabbed Nick and Rochelle's hands and pulled them over to a sleeping man who looked no older than Ellis himself. Actually, from what they could see (just his back, since he was facing away from them), he looked a lot like Ellis. He wore a baseball cap that was turned sideways in a sloppy fashion, a faded orange t-shirt that almost matched his scraggly reddish hair, jeans that were ripped in several spots, and black combat boots that were caked with mud and gore. Well, everything on the guy was covered with blood and dirt, much like everyone else in the area.

After Ellis shook him and called his name excitedly, though, it was a whole different sight.

There were scratches _everywhere_ on him, just as Ellis had described in one of his far-fetched stories. From what they could see, there were indeed a few burn marks on his arms, and even though he was half-asleep when he had turned to look at them, he had the general daredevil look in his green eyes. The short auburn goatee definitely contributed to his Southern appearance. It was, without a doubt, Ellis' buddy Keith. Nick tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the man – he wanted to see if the stories about the _"MORON"_ tattoo on his forehead were really true.

"…El?" Keith asked, his eyes widening as a tremendous smile spread across his face. "Izzat really you?"

"Hell yeah!" Ellis replied. "This is the best apocalypse ever!" Keith gave a "Yeah!" in agreement and the two best friends hugged each other. Rochelle smiled and said, "Isn't that sweet."

Nick crossed his arms. The only good thing about this was that it seemed as if they weren't shooting Carriers after all, depending on how long Keith had been there. So, he had to ask: "When did you get here?"

At that, Keith stopped in the middle of a story he was telling and looked at Nick. "Well, I only got here 'bout two days ago," he replied. "Some crazy shit went down with our first 'elicopter pilot an' we had to fight our way here."

Nick uttered an "Uh-huh," looking displeased. That wasn't assuring at all.

"Y'hear that, Nick?" Ellis asked. "They ain't shootin' anybody yet!" Obviously he didn't understand the fact that that may not be entirely true. Nick looked at him and said in a mockery of his voice, "Y'hear that, Ellis? That don't mean they ain't gonna shoot him _today_!" after which there were a few seconds of silence. It appeared that, like Ellis, Keith also knew when things were bad – which was a surprise, given all the stories that had been told about him made it seem like quite the opposite. He had obviously gotten uncomfortable (most likely due to Nick's insensitive comment), so he cleared his throat and looked at the three of them. "How'd y'all get here?" he asked. "Those military guys made it sound like there wasn't anybody left, jus' zombies. They said they were gonna bomb everything."

Nick and Rochelle nodded; Ellis replied with a morose "Yup."

"Damn! Well, how'd ya get here?"

"Sure as hell wasn't easy," Nick muttered. "They were bombing the bridge that we had to cross to get to the helicopter. I don't think we'd seen as many of those Infected things before, either. They were everywhere. The only good part was that our pilot didn't die this time." At this, Keith nodded. Rochelle shot a look at Nick – she had been opposed to the idea of shooting that first pilot, Infected or not; it had just seemed wrong. Maybe that was due to the fact that she had actually _seen_ him changing into a raving monster. Sadly, she knew they hadn't had a choice. Nick looked back at her and said, "What? You know it had to be done." She redirected her eyes to the ground and said quietly, "I know."

"What happened t'your pilot?" Ellis asked suddenly in an attempt to prevent another moment of silence. It was in vain, however. It took Keith a few seconds of recollecting his thoughts to reply.

"We had been walkin' 'round for a really long time – Dave an' me," he added. Ellis instantly perked up, and Keith continued. "We were followin' a bunch o' directions people had left on walls an' stuff like that, talkin' about escapin' and get'n to a safe place. It took a while, but we actually found one o' the places still had people there. Good thing, too, 'cause Dave was lookin' really tired an' he was gett'n kinda upset. There was only a few there, all these army guys in crazy get-ups, an' they had a helicopter. So it took 'em a long time ta talk about it an' finally they decided they'd let us on it, but like half of 'em said somethin' like they had ta 'evacuate' and they ran away real fast before they'd let us through to the chopper." Nick let out a grunt of disapproval; that had most likely been the _clean_ ones making way for the Carriers. "So I was on the helicopter an' I was about ta help Dave up when all of a sudden the army guys started runnin' around and pullin' out their guns. At first we thought they were gonna shoot us, but they aimed at the cockpit. Man, that was the nastiest shit I ever seen. The pilot started goin' crazy, snarlin' and all that, so I jumped outta the copter and started runnin'. Somethin' felt wrong, though, so I looked back an' Dave was goin' really slow."

Ellis tensed. It seemed as if he was predicting the horrors of what might have happened next.

"I honestly dunno what was wrong with 'im, El," Keith sighed heavily, shaking his head. "It looked like 'e was limpin'. I yelled at 'im ta hurry up, but he kept goin' all slow and before I could yell at 'im again, the wacko pilot was on 'im." At this point, it seemed as if Keith was having a hard time speaking and his voice cracked with every few words, overwhelmed with the loss of his friend. All was silent for another few moments until he continued his story. "…So all the army guys were still shootin' this way an' that, an' they had really bad aim, but one of 'em actually hit the pilot an' 'e went down. I ran up ta Dave an' shook 'im ta make sure 'e was okay. He looked bad. Really bad. I couldn't even tell where 'e was hurt, El… 'e was covered in blood. I don' even know if 'e heard me talkin' to 'im. I musta asked 'im like fifty times if 'e was alright, but it was hopeless…" He paused again and took a deep, shaky breath. "So… The army guys were gettin' all nervous an' they practically shoved me into the helicopter. Everythin' after that kinda turned into a big blur 'cause I was so upset. Y'have no idea how happy I am t'see ya, El."

The usually cheery Ellis looked as if he was unable to smile. He barely gave Keith a suitable reply – just a short "Uh-huh" – and stared at the ground, twiddling his thumbs. The realization that he would never see his buddy Dave again was too much for him to bear. He sat on his cot and continued to focus on the floor as if it could provide him with security. "Night, guys," he said finally, and laid his head on the ragged pillow.

"Sounds to me like Dave might have been hurt for a while," Nick commented quietly, hoping Ellis was already asleep so he wouldn't hear. "You said he looked tired and he was upset. Maybe he was hiding something from you."

Keith shrugged. "Everyone's tired." he pointed out. "Y'all don't look too great yourselves, an' I probably look like shit too."

Rochelle made a "hmph" sound. "Thanks," she mumbled.

The three of them agreed that they were indeed tired (though Keith had been sleeping when they first saw him) and settled into their own beds. The people around them seemed to feel the same way, and soon the whole barracks was dark and silent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Russian Roulette**

_Pass it on._

Ellis was the first to open his eyes, most likely because he'd been the first to close them. It was still quiet and dark in the barracks and appeared as if everyone was still asleep. He saw this as an opportunity: the showers would no doubt have shorter lines, if any. The downside was that he was hesitant to leave his friends – especially after hearing about Dave's fate. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

He sighed. That was just paranoia talking. Nothing was going to happen. They were safe now. They could help each other out and get through this. The military had plenty of weapons.

Glancing at his precious few friends for a moment, he felt his heart skip a beat. These were the only friends he had. He didn't know where anyone else was or if they were even alive. His whole family could be drooling lunatics, out there eating those who hadn't been fortunate enough to find shelter. No, no, he couldn't think of things like that – he shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned quickly away, exiting the barracks.

The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon, throwing hues of yellow and orange and pink across the sky. It was worthy of a painting. As Ellis stared at the scene for a few moments, he wondered how there could be something still so nice in a world so cold and cruel. Poor Dave hadn't deserved that. He should be here, watching the sunrise, part of their trio-turned-family. Ellis considered them family; they were all they had left, after all. He thought of these things over and over as he took a long shower – there hadn't been a line because everyone was apparently still asleep, and no one was telling him to get out so he took his time.

After he finished his shower, he dried himself off with an old towel that was hanging over the makeshift stall. The towel had no doubt been used by many people – who knew how unsanitary it was? – but he couldn't complain. It felt nice to be even a little cleaner than before. He pulled on his clothes and stepped out of the stall. It was still silent and the sky was turning into a grayish color, highly contrasting what it had been just a while ago. Ellis made his way back to his barracks and wove through all of the cots, finding the area he, Nick, Rochelle, and Keith were in. Nick and Rochelle were still sound asleep; Keith was sitting on the edge of his bed staring into space. He looked up when Ellis approached and smiled an empty, sad smile. "I was scared," he said. Ellis stared at him for a moment – he had never expected the amazing Keith to admit to fear. Keith was the one that would do anything just for fun and come out of it bruised and laughing. If he was scared, then this really was the end of the world. "I was scared when I saw you weren't here when I woke up," he continued, "because I thought seein' you might have jus' been me goin' crazy. I thought that maybe I had lost Dave an' you. I tried ta be all happy an' such when I was with Dave, but the truth is that I was tired an' frustrated, too. I ain't ready for all this apocalypse stuff, El. At first it seemed like a game, but now that Dave's gone, it's serious."

Ellis swallowed hard against the choking feeling in his throat. He didn't want to hear this – he didn't want to know how weak Keith felt, because he felt weak himself. "Keith, it's not-" He began, but stopped mid-sentence when he heard a strange noise. A strange yet familiar noise. It was a sort of guttural groaning sound, unmistakable and blood-chilling. It came from nearby, probably just a row of beds or two over from theirs. He instinctively leapt to action, shaking Nick's shoulder violently to wake his sleeping form, and then continued to Rochelle after Nick started to sit up and curse under his breath.

"What is it?" Nick demanded. Then he too heard the sound and reached for the gun he had set beside his cot the night before – only to find that it wasn't there. He looked around and noticed all of their weapons had vanished. "They took our stuff!" he said loudly, waking up a few nearby people. "Our medical supplies are gone, too! God damn it!"

Rochelle had also been reaching for her weapon, but looked between Nick and Ellis in alarm when she also saw it was gone. "What do we do?" she asked frantically.

"Run?" Keith suggested from the background. He looked in the direction of where the noise had come from, and gasped when he saw that there was a single Infected standing in the back corner of the barracks.

"Holy shit!" Nick exclaimed. "I wanna know who let that thing in here!" He turned and headed for the exit while Rochelle, Keith, and Ellis followed without hesitation. "Get your asses up," Nick spat at random people as he passed their cots. The Infected was chasing them, doing a horrible job of weaving through the beds, and people started to scream and run every which way. The four of them ran out of the barracks and drew to a halt. Nick looked left and right, wondering where the hell their weapons had been stored. Why would those idiots take their weapons in the first place? He was about to run in the direction of the army base when more screams erupted from further away and soon there were people bursting out of every barracks.

Keith had supposedly gotten the same idea as Nick; he ran to the east towards the army base and waved a hand to instruct them to follow.

"It'll take too long!" Rochelle called. "By the time we get there everyone here will be…" She trailed off, unable to finish. Keith glanced back at her, replying, "I know."

From there they were quiet – aside from panting and heavy footsteps – as they ran. All of them were tired and their legs ached, but none of them wanted to fall behind and stall the others. It seemed to be a miracle when they reached the army base, and immediately the soldiers that were outside pointed their guns at them.

"Put those down!" Nick shouted, unfortunately sounding more winded than he did angry. The four of them stopped in the middle of the field of cement and soldiers rushed towards them, still aiming their guns despite Nick's command. He looked up at them and scowled. "Infected," he explained breathlessly. "In the camp. We woke up… and it was there. Either it's having a feast or it's making babies."

The soldiers all looked at each other, then ran off to shout at their comrades.

Rochelle frowned at Nick. "'Making babies?'" she repeated with a rather humorless chuckle. "That place is full of Carriers. They're all immune."

Nick crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Well, how else do you think that thing got there?" he countered. "Either it snuck in during the night – which it didn't, because it would have attacked someone and we'd have woken up – or someone… somehow… changed into it. Maybe… something happened and their system couldn't take it anymore. I think it was a Carrier that lost control."

"How could that even happen?" Rochelle asked. "Don't you think… one of us might have changed by now…?" She looked at the three men; it was hard to imagine any of them turning into one of the Infected. They all seemed so concentrated, like they knew what they were doing, and she felt so uncertain.

"Dunno." Nick shrugged simply. "All I know is that I want my gun and I want to get the hell out of here. I think they took our weapons for themselves. These guys don't know what they're doing." With that, he jogged towards the barracks that the non-Carrier army folk stayed in. All of them were so caught up in running around and making a big fuss that they paid no attention to the four citizens sneaking around. Nick found a metal crate full of weapons – recognizing a few of them to be the ones he and his group had carried previously – and handed them out. He turned to face the other three and smirked. "Now we're in business."

"AK-47!" Keith cried, petting his gun like one would an animal. "I missed you, babe."

"Make love to it later," Nick said. "Right now we've gotta get out of here." The base was surrounded in a chain-link fence with sloppy electric coils around the top. Luckily enough, there was a hole nearby in the fence close to the ground, possibly left over from an attack early in the Infection. "Come on!" Nick said, leading the others to the hole. He ducked down and almost had to crawl to get through it, also managing to rip his suit in a few places as he did so. Ellis, Rochelle, and Keith followed quickly after him.

Rochelle hesitated. "Nick," she said, making him pause in his walk towards the nearby forest. "What if there's a lot of them out there? That one in the base could very well have gotten in this very same way."

"I told you, it was probably someone that was already in the base." Nick reasoned. "And besides, we're used to hordes."

Rochelle nodded and didn't say anything else; that second part was true. She was just so exhausted, sick of fighting for her life all the time. She wished things could go back to normal. She wished she could make breakfast in the morning without having to hold a katana in her other hand. Hell, she wished she could eat breakfast at all – most of the time their group had to keep moving and didn't have enough time for a real meal. Instead of voicing this opinion like she so desired to do, she kept quiet and followed Nick through the trees. Ellis and Keith both gave her a look of concern and she couldn't help but smile at how similar they seemed. Somehow they looked almost like they could be related, and their personalities made them even more alike. Their bond was obvious. She was glad _someone_ still had something to keep them going. All she had was her own advice that she was tired of giving and Nick's cold facts that always kept everyone focused. Sometimes she wondered if she'd have made it this far without hearing Nick shout orders every time something went wrong, or if Ellis hadn't told his stories, or if Coach hadn't been so brave.

She had occupied herself so deeply with these thoughts that she snapped back to attention when the screeching of Infected was heard from ahead. The four survivors readied their weapons as they trudged forward. "Look out behind us, too," Nick called – once again stabilizing Rochelle's emotions… for the time being.


	5. Chapter 5

**Russian Roulette**

_Whoops._

In almost three hours the group had managed to walk about four miles and had slayed countless Infected. It couldn't be much after twelve noon and all of them finally seemed to realize that they too were hungry. Nick was naturally the one to start complaining. He plopped on the ground and clutched a hand over his stomach.

"Ugh." He groaned. "Why didn't I think to steal something to eat?"

Rochelle sat next to him, and Ellis and Keith copied her. "It's not your fault, hun," she assured, patting the conman's shoulder. "We had priorities – get guns and scram."

"Still," Nick insisted, "food's pretty important. My stomach is killing me." He set down his gun and stared at his stomach. It felt like it was squeezing itself to death. "When was the last time we even ate anything?"

Keith smiled sheepishly. "I ate at the base," he said. "The food wasn't great, but at least it was somethin'. They only had breakfast an' dinner ta save food. There was rumors goin' 'round about how they weren't gonna have breakfast anymore."

Rochelle shared a glance with Nick and thought the same thing he did: Probably to save food for the _non_-Carriers.

"God damn it." Nick sighed. "We must've missed dinner."

Ellis spoke up for the first time since they had left the base. "We'll be fine for a while if we can find water," he suggested.

Rochelle nodded and said, "True, but where are we gonna find water that isn't flowing with Infected guts?"

All four of them looked at each other in a disgusted manner. Ellis looked the most repulsed; thanks to being caught by so many Smokers, he had actually tasted such a thing before while being mauled. Cannibalism rumors suggest humans taste like pork – in reality they tasted like blood and Lord knows what else. "Maybe we could just find a house," he said. "There's gotta ta be some o' those water bottles somewhere." Sadly, most of the water bottles they had found as of yet were empty and crunched up. The first few weeks of the Infection had called for preparation and people had used up most of their supplies, leaving survivors with nothing. The army base had been lucky to have food at all.

Nick sighed and stood up. "Well, that's our best bet." He decided: and usually he was correct about best bets. This meant that Rochelle and Ellis knew it was the only thing they could do. Keith seemed to get the hint.

"So you're like the commander?" he asked, punching Nick's shoulder. "Alright, Boss, I'll listen. Only 'cause you seem ta know what you're doin'."

"He's had the most gunslinging experience," Rochelle added, grinning at Nick.

"Stop trying to make me blush." Nick said flatly. "Though it's true, I _am_ pretty handy with weapons." He missed the good old days of pulling weapons when he lost a heated game of Poker. He missed the excitement of having a weapon pulled on him for the same reason and making a quick getaway. That was all fun and thrill; this was real life. He couldn't help but think of the women that would surround him whenever he won, however… Now the only women were Spitters and other Infected – oh, and Rochelle, but he was hesitant to make any advances. Besides, they didn't have time to screw around (literally). They would get attacked by snarling monsters in the middle of any passionate moment. He couldn't help staring at her, though; she was pretty good-looking. Too bad she was so damn proper most of the time.

As Nick wallowed in his lustful thoughts, Rochelle wondered why on earth he was staring at her so intently.

"Wake up, Boss!" Keith said, waving a hand in front of Nick's face.

Nick smacked Keith's hand away. "Right." he mumbled, picking up his gun. He led the group through the woods again as their stomachs growled angrily.

"Hallelujah!" Keith exclaimed, getting on his knees in front of the soggy box of water bottles. A few of the bottles were empty or smashed and their contents had been absorbed by the cardboard, but most of them had miraculously survived. He excitedly pulled out the good bottles and distributed them. The four of them opened the caps and drank faster than they could swallow. The house they were in was quite damaged like all the others but had been the only one with suitable water.

They hadn't found any food. They were tired of running and their clothes were bloodier and more tattered than ever. However, none of them felt the need to complain; a nap wasn't worth risking their lives in this area. What they really needed was a safe place to stay, and this wasn't it; the doors were all smashed and the windows were broken, and the only food was spoiled or spilled on the floor. Keith took it upon himself to find a small duffel bag in one of the bedrooms and put the remaining water bottles in it – he smiled proudly when Rochelle praised him for the idea.

"This is good," Nick said, reloading his gun while they weren't being attacked. "We have water now. Water's good." This was more for the sake of keeping everyone else motivated; in reality it was obviously very bad. Sure, they had water, but they were lacking food and shelter. What would they do when they ran out of ammo? Where was the next house going to be? Would that house even have any supplies? They had been lucky to find this place in the middle of nowhere. It was while he was reloading his gun and thinking of these things that things got even worse; he was almost finished placing the bullets in their rightful places when he felt as if all the air had been forced out of him by the immense pressure around his abdomen. His gun fell out of his hands as he was yanked away into the dark recesses of the house that they hadn't explored yet. There was a horribly familiar cough that rang loud in his ears and then something blunt hit the side of his head, nearly knocking him over. He recognized this sequence easily – he had been pulled in by a Smoker and was now going to get the snot beaten out of him until someone killed it or cut that disgustingly slimy tongue off.

He heard the shouts of his comrades from the room he had just been pulled out of, and then there were sounds of rapid gunfire and screeching Infected. The Smoker threw its fist into his jaw this time. All he could do was stare at its horribly disfigured face as he was hit over… and over… and over again. There was a horrible thought in the back of his mind; what if the others were too busy out there to come help him?

To make matters worse, there was a shriek in the distance, followed by a crouching hooded figure leaping through a nearby window.

"Guys?" Nick called loudly, hoping at least _one_ of them would hear. Another smack to the side of his head – he was beginning to get a migraine from all of this. "There's a Hunt—oh _shit._" The Hunter looked straight at him – if Hunters could even see with those horrible bloody holes where eyes should be – and let out another screech as it flung itself at him.

More migraine-inducing punches combined with searing pain in his right shoulder indicated that this might indeed be the end. No one was coming to help him. He was going to die in this run-down hellhole of Infected Southerners in the middle of nowhere. This wasn't at all how he'd wanted to die, God damn it.

He was in the middle of accepting his fate and getting mangled that he was surprised when there was a louder gunshot and the Hunter was flung off of him. Another shot and the Smoker fell over, its tongue falling limp and slipping to the floor. The whole world seemed to be spinning and all Nick could do to stabilize it was let himself fall as well and succumb to the ceiling that danced in all different directions, enveloping him in a blurry state of madness. A blurry shape blotted out wherever the dim source of light was coming from and a slurred voice echoed around him. "Nick, are you okay?" it demanded. He feel the vague touch of a hand on his unharmed shoulder as he was shaken, making the blurry room mix together even more. "Nick, come on. Can you hear me? Nick!"

The screeching and gunshots faded into the sound of footsteps and two other voices conversing quietly with the first one. Their figures stood close by, staring down at him.

"…think he's out of it," one voice said – hey, maybe that was Rochelle. It had to be; it was higher-pitched than the other two.

"We need ta move," another voice said. Then one of the figures approached him and he felt more hands pulling him up. He stared into the face of what must be Ellis; his eyes were filled with concern and he had what must be a bloody wound on his cheek and several new bruises. "Ellis," Nick muttered, tapping him on the shoulder. The other man looked down at him, then glanced at one of the other two survivors, then back at Nick. "Yeah?" he asked.

"I want… my gun." Nick replied gesturing sloppily to some random corner of the room where his gun most certainly did not lie. Rochelle's blurry form went to pick up his gun from the other room as Ellis followed her with Nick in his arms. When Rochelle had Nick's gun, they all exited the house and kept moving through the forest in hopes of finding somewhere that would keep them safe for at least a little while.


	6. Chapter 6

**Russian Roulette**

_You're next._

Ellis glanced down at the bloody conman in his arms every few seconds to make sure he was still breathing. He was actually rather lucky; the Hunter had only gotten to his shoulder and part of his chest instead of the usual target of the abdomen. He couldn't help but be apprehensive, however. He had already lost Dave and he didn't want to lose this man that had become something of a leader for the group; he would tell them where to go and what to do when they got there. Nick had always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone else. He was a quick thinker and even quicker with a weapon. They would be in a bad place if they lost him.

He seemed to be zoning in and out. Every few minutes he'd open his eyes and ask where they were going or how long until they got there. This, Ellis guessed, was probably just because he'd gotten smacked around quite a bit before Rochelle had been able to save him. Were they under normal circumstances, the way he babbled would seem funny, but it was quite the opposite. His wounds continued to bleed.

At the moment, the conman was in his zoned-out mode. He lay limp in Ellis' hands, eyes closed and supposedly asleep or just too weak to stay alert. It was alarming to see a tough, full-grown man in such a state.

"Ro?" Ellis asked, looking at the dark-skinned woman walking ahead of him. She turned around. "What is it?" she asked, and noticeably looked at Nick as Ellis had been doing the past half hour or so.

"How long d'ya think it'll be 'til we find somewhere ta stay?"

Rochelle shrugged. "I don't know, Ellis," she replied. "It could be minutes, could be hours."

"It prob'ly ain't the best time ta say it, but I could go for a nice nap right 'bout now," Keith interjected from the back of the line.

"Me too, Keith." Rochelle agreed. "I bet all of us could."

"'Specially Nick," Ellis said, staring down at the man again. "He ain't lookin' too good. Whatever we're lookin' for, we better find it fast. …Y'know, I can barely see the orange in my shirt anymore." Through all the blood and dirt and cuts, all of their clothes looked more like rags. The only good thing was that most of the blood was from Infected – aside from the blood on Ellis' shirt, which was now mostly from Nick. Most of Nick's suit had been dyed dark red and had soaked through to the blue shirt underneath. He stirred in Ellis' arms.

"God, what the hell!" Nick suddenly exclaimed, his good hand clutching at his bloody arm. "My shoulder's on fire!"

"That was a really late reaction…" Keith pointed out.

"Where's that god-damn Hunter? I swear I'm gonna—oh, hell. Put me down, Ellis."

"But—" Ellis began, only to be interrupted by Nick's shout of "Put me down, god damn it!"

Rochelle rolled her eyes. "Nick, calm down," she scolded. Ellis placed him gently on the grass and stared worriedly down at him. Nick sat with his back propped against a tree trunk. "I'll calm down when one of you gets me a first-aid kit," he spat. All three of them exchanged a glance and replied in unison, "We don't have one." At this, Nick looked quite displeased.

"The hell do you mean, you don't have one?" he said. "I'm feeling like my arm's gonna fall off and you don't have a fuckin' first-aid kit? What is _wrong_ with this place!"

"Stop your whining." Rochelle mumbled. "We're miles away from— well… we don't know how far we are from anywhere that might have supplies. You don't think we've been _trying_ to find help?"

Nick went silent and stared at his injury. There was a lot of blood. The world was still a little blurry and losing so much blood was making him dizzy. "Yeah, my bad," he said under his breath. "I'm just… pissed. That stupid army base, everything's gone to hell, and I'd kill for a sandwich and a pack of Band-Aids."

"We all would." Rochelle replied with a laugh. "Nick, you're gonna be fine. If any of us make it out of this, it'll be you. You're the one usually shouting at us – shut your mouth for once. We'll find a place to stay and fix that shoulder."

Nick nodded and then added in a whisper, "Better be soon."

Ellis picked him up again, at which he looked very annoyed but didn't argue. He had legs that still worked… but at least he didn't have to use them right now.

Miraculously, only another half hour passed by before they found an abandoned town. The place was desolate and trashed, as expected, but it was better than nothing. Nick had been told to walk a while ago when Ellis started to complain, and he had refused to use Keith as transport (the guy was accident-prone as far as he knew). He still held his bloody arm with his uninjured hand and it seemed as if he was trying not to complain anymore, but it was obvious he didn't feel too good.

"Is that a hospital?" he asked, staring at a tall brick building with a large "HOSPITAL" sign over the entryway. "That's perfect!"

Rochelle frowned. "It's probably empty," she pointed out.

"Or full of zombies," Keith added.

"I don't give a damn." Nick said. "There's got to be at least fifty first-aid kits in there." He approached the building with a smirk of determination. The others had no choice but to follow him – they didn't want him to get attacked by another Smoker.

They entered the hospital which had magazines and papers and chairs all over the lobby. The power was out aside from two or three flickering lights down the hallways to the right and left of the front desk. A few dead bodies littered the ground, but the four survivors were used to such sights.

"This way," Nick said, going down the hallway to the right. He peeked into each of the rooms. Many of them had multiple corpses in them and blood-stained floors. Some of them were completely empty but had chairs and machinery strewn on the ground nonetheless. Most of the medical supplies seemed to have been used up when they were needed by so many people. No one seemed to have considered the fact that the ones after them would need help as well; of course, not many of them knew the Infection would last so long or spread so wide.

Rochelle let out a sigh. "Nick, there isn't a lot here to work with," she said, "unless you don't mind gauze that's already been used."

"Aha!" Nick exclaimed, completely ignoring her. He held up a medical kit that was only missing a few of its contents. "Here, use it." He thrust the kit into Rochelle's hands since he trusted her the most. She sighed again but took the kit and cleaned his injuries the best she could, which revealed the source of all the gore underneath – nasty gashes covering his shoulder. His suit had been almost completely shredded on the right side.

Nick took off his jacket and shirt, partially to make bandaging the wound easier and partially to get a better look at it. That, and because he hadn't felt a woman's touch in so long – who could blame him? It was such a nice, gentle feeling. In all this chaos, he missed all those women crowding around him and complimenting his Poker skills.

Rochelle rolled her eyes – she believed Nick was probably just trying to show off – but didn't say anything since it did make it easier to bandage the wound anyway.

Ellis and Keith exchanged a look and thought the same thing: Nick was kind of creepy in a subtle way.

"Done," Rochelle announced after a few awkward moments of silence. She handed Nick's tattered clothes to him. He put them on, the slightest of smiles on his face. "Thanks." he said. "Now for something to eat before I die of starvation."

"McDonald's!" Keith cheered, pointing out the front window of the lobby to an empty restaurant.

"That place is bound to be _disgusting_," Rochelle said, a repulsed look on her face.

"Rotten hamburgers," Nick said bluntly. "Let's try something that won't be spoiled, yeah?"

Keith frowned. He missed being able to go to fast food places. Searching for food that most likely didn't exist was so upsetting.

"How 'bout we just keep searchin' houses…" Ellis said, grossed out at the mention of rotten food. The others agreed and they went on their way.

Soon they had gone through at least three decrepit houses and gathered several cans of whatever they could find and ran into a few Infected, which Ellis quickly killed before anyone else had the opportunity to announce that they were nearby. He wasn't keen on the idea of anyone else getting injured.

"Cold soup, fruit, and…" Rochelle stared at one of the cans, then set it down on the table they were sitting at in one of the houses. "…whatever the hell this is."

"I don't care if I have to eat dirt for fuck's sake," Nick said. "Just pass something this way."

Rochelle slid a soup can to him, taking one of the fruit cans for herself. Ellis and Keith reached for cans as well and started to argue over who got which one. Soon they were laughing and hitting each other.

"This is disgusting," Nick mumbled after drinking the soup straight from the can. "But I love it so much."

"Cut it out, you guys. Save that energy for fighting zombies," Rochelle said, pulling Keith away from Ellis. She handed them both cans and they ate, still chuckling and occasionally elbowing each other in the ribs.

"Hey, we didn't say a blessing!" Ellis said abruptly through a mouth full of peaches. Keith added a "Yeah!" and Rochelle stared at the two. Nick shot Ellis a dirty look.

"What the hell is there to bless?" he asked. "We've just barely managed to get by. Thanks, God, for letting this apocalypse happen. I really appreciate smelling like shit and human innards. And I guess I don't really need this arm, do I?"

Ellis glared at Nick. "Don' be like that, Nick." He scolded. "At least we got food an' people ta travel with. Someone might be alone starvin' somewhere right now."

"Hey God, thanks for letting that kid starve by himself," Nick added sarcastically and finished his soup.

"At least we're _alive!_" Ellis countered.

"And Dave's not."

At this, there was a moment of shocked silence. Rochelle gave Nick a look that said "What are you thinking!" Keith looked down at his lap and twiddled his thumbs uncomfortably. "At least he don' hafta suffer anymore," he offered quietly.

"Nick, that was a bad thing to say." Rochelle said, still frowning at him. "Say you're sorry. Man, I feel like a kindergarten teacher!"

"Why should I?" Nick demanded. "God's not sorry. The Infected aren't sorry. You have to realize this is the worst it could get."

"Well, damn, Nick." Ellis said suddenly. "Maybe it should'a been you instead o' Dave. Would'ja be happy then?" He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over, and stormed out of the room. "Ellis!" Rochelle called and went to follow him, then paused. "Nick, you're a real asshole," he said, then hurried out after Ellis.

"You are," Keith commented through the silence.

"Shut it, Keith." Nick muttered. "This isn't a game, you know. This isn't that one time Ellis' buddy Keith ran through a bunch of zombies and only lost his hat. This is the fucking _end of the world._"

Keith gathered the empty cans and tossed them in the trash, though it didn't make much sense because the rest of the room was still littered. He packed the rest of the cans in the bag he carried. "We're just as tired as you are," he reasoned. "When it all started, yeah, I kinda thought it was fun – but now it ain't fun anymore. Ever since Dave started naggin' – kinda like you are – I realized that it's bad. Don' make it worse, 'specially not for El. He was jus' tryin' ta make things seem a bit better."

He wished he could walk out like Ellis had, but he couldn't leave Nick alone, especially not with his injured arm.

"Where do you get off preaching to me, anyway?" Nick mumbled. "Obviously God's pissed and this is our _divine punishment_ or whatever."

Keith let out a long sigh. "For the leader o' the group, you sure ain't motivational."

"Can you even _spell_ 'motivational?'" Nick taunted. He leaned back in his seat. "Look, you be the work force, and I'll be the brains. Religion doesn't belong in a place like this—in a _time_ like this."

"You don' hafta make such a big deal outta it. I can ignore a few insults an' such, but when ya upset El, we get problems. It upsets me, too. I had ta watch Dave die an' couldn't do anything about it. Y'have no idea what that's like, do ya?"

"I've seen things that would probably make you cry, then." Nick retorted. "Being connected to people just makes everything worse. If Ellis, let's say, gets his head chopped off, you're gonna be really upset; I won't, because I'm not connected to him. The best way to get through this is to care about nothing and no one other than yourself."

"You gotta be by far the worst person I ever met." Keith sighed. "Don't matter ta me if y'care about 'im or not – just come with me so I can make sure 'e's okay."


End file.
